Oh, What a Night and What a Codpiece
by VULCAN-SPOCK
Summary: A Minerva and Albus Fic


Minerva McGonagall strolled down one of Hogwarts many corridors. She listened to the distant sound of rain as she made her way to the Great Hall. The tears that she had held back for too long began to seep out from behind her stern, square spectacles. She hadn't cried in years, not since Albus Dumbledore had gone off to fight Grindlewald, and here she was crying over that same man, some 50 years later. She looked up and wiped away her tears. 'Foolishness!' she whispered sternly, ' I missed my chance then, why should now be any different?' Just at that moment the huge oak doors were flung open and there stood before her was Dumbledore. He was breathing heavily, his ancient chest moving up and down, a soft wheezing sound emmiting from his throat. His well worn, glittery purple boots were scuffed and ripped, his fleecy cloak torn to shreds. 'Oh Albus!', she cried, quite unlike her usual strict, reserved self, and threw her arms around his tired, ageing body.  
  
The embrace lasted meer seconds but to Minerva it felt like a lifetime. Dumbledore's large, muscular hands curled around her square shoulders and he pushed her away. Minerva's heart sank. She gazed up at his usually gentle, warm face but now it was covered with cuts and bruises. His sky blue eyes blazed with anger. 'Not now!!!' he growled and with that threw her aside. She was left to watch disparingly as Dumbledore strode off, cloak billowing behind him. The tears came to Minerva in waves now, unchecked, and she let them fall, she no longer cared who saw. She walked slowly back to her living chambers, spoke her password, 'watermelon', to the guarding portrait, a large picture of Spock from Star Trek, the only muggle films she had ever watched and threw herself onto her bed, her old bones creaking in protest, and sobbed herself to sleep.  
  
Albus Dumbledore steadily paced his office. His fingers constantly tapped his robes in a nervous frenzy. He glanced helplessly at Almando Dippet who was snoring quietly in his frame. He suddenly had an over-whelming desire to tear the frame from the wall and...'What's happening to me???' he cried. The panic in his voice vibrated around the room, waking Fawks from his silent slumber.  
  
Dumbledore was tired, he hadn't slept in days, last night, he, Severus Snape, Harry Potter and many others had defeated Tom Riddle. The latest plague of the wizarding world was dead, yet Dumbledore wasn't out celebrating, he was realistic enough to know that some other psychotic lunatic would fill his shoes soon enough.  
  
At this moment, Dumbledore hated himself, he felt none of those ecstatic feelings that one is meant to feel after defeating their enemy of 50 years, he felt hurt, torn up inside that he had lost so many of his students, his children the night before. The faces of the casualties ran through his head, Kingsley, Arthur Weasley, Cho Chang to name but a few. He slowly sank into his chair, exhausted. For the first time in his life he felt old, tired, worthless. His inner flame had begun to diminish and all he could do was wait for the inevitable.  
  
Minerva awoke with a start. Sweating, she ran out of her chambers, something was wrong with Albus, she knew it. Her tartan pyjama clad body raced through the halls, all the way to a large, stone gargoyle. 'Jelly Tots' she spoke breathlessly and entered his office, via moving staircase. She stared desperately at the lifeless figure that lay before her. Blood trickled from the deep cuts that were inflicted during the battle. 'Albus!!!' she screamed hurrying over to the desk. She clutched at her pockets for her wand. 'Damn!!!!' she shouted as she realised that she had left it in her room. Her heart pounded and thumped. How could she let Dumbledore, her one true love, die before her eyes? She rushed forward and grabbed his limp hand. 'Think Minerva. Think.' Suddenly a thought popped into her mind. Those muggle lessons the Ministry had made the teachers go on were not that useless after all. What was it called PCR? YPD? CPR? She leaned over Albus's body and pressed her lips to his. Unlike she expected his lips felt warm and plump. Silently a hand reached up and settled itself on her waist. 'Albus' she gasped, 'I, I thought you were dead, don't ever do that to me again, I thought I'd lost you, and I never got my chance to tell you that' Minerva trailed off staring intently into his eyes. 'Tell me what, Minerva?' he inquired with a twinkle in his piercing blue eyes. 'To tell you that, I, I, I just cant say, there is, after all no way that you'll ever feel the same about me, you will never return my feelings' her voice cracked. Albus pulled her close and carefully unwound her long dark hair. 'I understand more than you think Minerva.' He played her long, silky hair. An apprehensive smile appeared on Minerva's face. 'But all this time, you never….' She started. Albus placed a finger on her thin, ruby lips. ' Nows not the time for talking.' 'MMMmmmmmmmm Albus' she moaned as his skilful, hot tongue invaded her mouth. Minerva grasped at Albus's robes trying to undo the many layers that had proteceted him from the cold. Similarly, she could feel Albus's hands feeling for ties and buttons. After several agonising minuets of this, Albus was down to his snitch covered boxers, and Minerva McGonagall, the Hogwarts prude lay on the floor of Albus Dumbledore's office wearing only a pair of black, high healed boots. Suddenly Minerva heard a faint sniggering and a small gasp. She looked up red faced at the pictures hypnotised by the action taking place. She desperately tried to cover certain areas but Albus just grabbed her hands and pulled her onto the desk. 'Don't worry they're dead' he whispered as her slide his hands over her body. 'Albus, what on earth is that?' Minerva cried indignantly, 'What, that?' answered Dumbledore calmly, 'that's my codpiece'. McGonagalls screams could be heard around the school. 


End file.
